Sandry's Tale
by lalalaheehee
Summary: Set between Magic Steps and WotE; Sandry is in Emelan and everyone else is out adventuring. After an earthquake destroys Winding Circle, everything in Sandry's world changes.
1. Chapter 1: Ruins

Sandry's Tale **(A/N: terrible title, hopefully I'll think of something better. This is the first chapter of what will hopefully be a long story!)**

**Disclaimer: most characters, places, themes and ideas by Tamora Pierce, some by me. All credit should go to TP for writing such amazing books!**

Chapter 1 - Ruins

As the dust rose up from the earth, Sandry bent over her latest creation. An almost invisible web of silk, gleaming with magic that only Sandry could see, was placed over a hidden hole in the ground. Her 'invisible trap', as Pasco called it, was complete.

"Thank you again, milady," said the Watch Commander by her side, "This will definitely help us solve those break-ins."

"It's no problem," protested Sandry, as she rose with a groan at her stiff knees. After the many hours put in by this team to catch the robbers, she felt sure her efforts were nothing in comparison, yet it was nice to know she could help. Seven months after capturing the Dihanurs and she still felt the need to solve crimes – this charmed net was one of many new attempts at keeping Summersea, and more importantly its people, safe.

Satisfied after a long day's spell-making, she found the guard who had her horse and climbed up wearily, all too grateful to be heading home for a big, hot bath. So tired was she, she didn't notice that the guards were leading the way west, away from the citadel.

"Where are we going?" she murmured sleepily to Garin, the younger of her guards.

"Winding Circle, milady, Dedicate Lark left a message saying we should bring you straight here when you were done." Garin grinned, showing his front two missing teeth, and winked at Sandry.

"Well I hope everything's alright – she'd have contacted me if something was really wrong, but" – Sandry broke off they neared the temple, feeling the threads in her dress straining away from her. Someone – Lark, she would bet – was calling her home, and fast.

"Hurry!" she cried, "We need to get there as soon as possible!"

The horses broke into a gallop and in less than a minute they were outside Discipline cottage. Sandry jumped from her horse, disregarding Garin and the other guard's attempts at helping her, and ran inside.

"Lark? Lark?" she called, panic mounting, "Lark, where are you? What's going on – oh! Costas! I forgot you were here!"

Costas, Lark's painfully shy new student, smiled timidly at Sandry from the door of his bedroom and said in a quiet, but serious voice, "Lark left five minutes ago – she suddenly ran off. I'm afraid I have no idea where she is." He turned again and disappeared into his room, leaving a bemused and worried Sandry.

"What's going on?" she wondered aloud, as she felt the magic present everywhere in the temple strain, as if a giant was pressing down on it. She recognised this feeling – more from her dreams than from real life - but she couldn't think what it was. Chewing on a brown plait, she walked thoughtfully into the kitchen, where the guards were sitting waiting for her.

"What is it, milady?" asked the other guard, a tall, rangy woman with the copper skin of a Yanjingese, "Can we do anything to help?"

"I don't know..." Sandry muttered, then spun around as she heard a dog bark outside. "Little Bear?" she asked incredulously, then remembered Bear was thousands of miles away with Tris in Tharios. The strained feeling increased, and tugged at her memory once again. She sighed, wishing her brother and sisters were there to help her find out what was going on.

Suddenly, Lark burst into the room. "Thank the Green Lady you're here!" she cried, "I've sent messengers to the citadel, and the watchpost you were at, and I was coming back here to tell Costas to" – she stopped abruptly and hugged Sandry tight to her. Sandry could feel her shaking.

"What is it?" she asked, "What's happening? You sent a message to come but it wasn't urgent, then I felt you call me here all of a sudden. What's going on?"

Lark frowned, her kind brown eyes unusually concerned. "We had warnings of a large weather system moving in this morning, so I called you here to help us decipher it. It's only been in the last bell that we've realised – it came on us so much faster than we imagined" – she broke off again and, as the dog outside barked once more, Sandry realised where she had felt that feeling before.

"Earthquake?" she whispered, and sunk into a chair that Garin pulled out for her just in time. She shut her eyes and was swept back to the cave four years earlier, when she and her siblings had been trapped in the darkness – the darkness! – as the earth raged around them. Her fear almost overwhelmed her, before she pulled herself together and remembered her duty. While her uncle was away visiting farmers in the nearby countryside, she was his representative at Winding Circle and so was bound by her rank to serve in any way possible. She sat up straighter, squared her dainty chin, and looked firmly at Lark.

"How much time do we have?" At the same time as asking this, Sandry was going through her magical supplies in her head; twelve protective shirts, sixteen magical bandages, only three bags of socks left. She almost didn't hear Lark's tired answer.

"The mages say it will strike in less than a bell – we've warned the people to get underground or to a warded house as soon as possible, but there's no time to go out and strengthen the spells – we have to find shelter ourselves, and ward the food and water supplies, and find as many bandages as possible..." She looked up at Sandry who, to her horror and shame, saw tears running down Lark's cheeks. "We just don't have enough time," she whispered.

Despite her horror at her adoptive mother's distraught state, Sandry knew she had to take charge.

"Right," she said, "let's grab everything we can carry from Discipline and take it to the shelter – Garin, you carry food; Soni," – pointing to the other guard – "blankets; Lark can take anything from her workroom; I'll take things from Daja, Tris and Briar's rooms; and – Costas! You can bring your own things. Oh and we should cover up Rosethorn's garden as much as possible. Now let's go, we haven't much time!"

Twenty minutes later, and after two trips back because of things Costas had forgotten, they arrived at the warded shelter, where about fifty other mages and novices were sitting, hushed, waiting for the earthquake to hit. Sandry added her siblings' belongings – hers were all back at the citadel apart from her mage's kit, which she always carried with her, and her emergency supplies – to a pile in the corner, directed the guards to deposit their loads in similar heaps, and helped Costas, who was carrying an enormous wooden statue, to find a spot to put his items. Then she turned back to find Lark, who was huddled with the other dedicates near the entrance to the shelter.

The warded shelter was an underground room at the heart of the Winding Circle complex, under the (clock tower) at the centre of the spiral. Every protective spell Sandry could recognise was placed on the room, its earthen walls, ceiling and floor, and instead of a door there was a magical shield spelled to let light and air but nothing else through. All in all, Sandry felt this was probably the safest place in Emelan to sit out an earthquake, but she still trembled to think of the damage that could be caused.

The dedicates moved aside to let her in next to Lark and a tall, thin man who glared absentmindedly at her until she forced a smile.

"Lady Sandrilene, I did not think you would be here. Haven't you got a palace to look after?" Dedicate Crane could be rude and blunt at times, but Sandry knew he was simply worried, and replied,

"Lark sent for me here and by the time I arrived it was too late to go back to the citadel. Besides, while Uncle's away there's no reason for me to stay there, I'd have rather been here at home with you." But Crane had turned away and was deep in conversation with another dedicate, who wore the yellow robes of an air initiate. Sandry caught the words "spelled" and "fortifications" from their talk, and decided not to interrupt in case she distracted them. Instead, she felt for her magical tie to Pasco, about whom she had been worrying. If he's at the school or at home he'll be alright, but those Namorn dancers were in town today and he was probably watching them, she mused. She was relieved to trace his fluid, silk-like thread to his home, where he would be safe. At least she didn't have to worry about keeping an eye on him anymore.

Bam! The earth shook suddenly, knocking her off her feet and barrelling into Crane and the other dedicate. Other people fell too; some into soft piles of clothes or bandages, others not so luckily onto the hard earthen floor.

"Is everyone alright?" She heard Moonstream's calm, dignified voice clearly through the screams and cries. It seemed everyone was, although as they all got to their feet a fresh tremor struck, more powerfully this time. One of the spelled lamps smashed, and the room became noticeable darker. Sandry tried not to think what would happen if they lost all sources of light; instead she huddled up in a ball next to Lark, who was murmuring prayers, and found the steady glow in her mind from the circle of thread connecting her and her siblings, drawing strength from it until her breathing slowed and she was calm. This took a while though, in fact when she opened her eyes – there were no more tremors – everyone else was getting to their feet and the doors were being opened.

Cries of shock came from those nearest the door, and several young novices burst into tears. Sandry fought her way to the front and gasped with horror as she saw the sight before her. Winding Circle lay in pieces before her eyes; every building she could see was reduced to rubble. The huge dormitories were now just a pile of stone and wood, and the clock tower had a huge crack down the middle, which left both hands pointing ominously at twelve.

People began spilling out into the harsh sunlight, wordlessly examining the ruin that lay before them. She heard a gasp from her left, and turned to see Lark staring at a heap of rubble near to where Discipline was, or should be, although there was a gap in the wall right there –

Sandry screamed and ran as fast as she could towards her beloved cottage, dragging Lark along with her. All that remained of Discipline was a few walls and the large wooden table, split into two. The carcass of the house lay around it, smothering Briar and Rosethorn's precious garden, but Sandry could not believe her home was gone – she blinked and blinked, hoping it would magically reform when she opened her eyes. As Lark sat sobbing in what used to be a lavender bush, Sandry sank onto her knees and mourned her beloved Discipline.


	2. Chapter 2: Suspicions

Sandry's Tale

Chapter 2: Suspicions

Two days after the earthquake, and Lark was getting desperate. Although the novices and initiates had temporary accommodation in the city, there was simply no room for Sandy – "Since you're not a dedicate or a novice, dear, we can't actually support you, I'm afraid," she kept saying to Sandry, who reassured her that she would find a place to stay. The earthquake had destroyed half of Summersea as well as Winding Circle, and the few rooms left untouched at the Duke's Citadel were full of bandages, clothes and food for the homeless. There were surprisingly few injured, however – the majority of the city had found shelter before it struck, and only those left out in the open were hurt during the chaos. After the events in the previous four years, Summersea was more resilient than ever, and was coping well in such adversity.

But Lark was not coping well. She was heartbroken at the thought of Sandry living with strangers, or worse by herself, and tried to persuade the girl to let her move with her, but Sandry laughingly declined, saying, "They need you at the Mages' Council, to support us stitch witches!" and refused to let her come with her. Sandry was looking forward to this new experience; she welcomed the chance to meet new people and wanted some of her own independence to rival her siblings'. Part of her wanted to see their faces when they came back from their travels –

"We went to far-off corners of the world, but Sandry, you lived on your own? How brave of you!"

So with excitement she entered the home of a potential landlady, a small thin woman with sharp eyes that followed her round the room. The lodgings she was offered seemed fine; smaller than her rooms at the citadel but bigger than her bedroom at Discipline, and the lady offered to provide two meals a day and to do her laundry – although Sandry assured her she would rather do it herself. She gave the woman a week's worth of rent in advance, hugged the weeping Lark and promised to visit the next day, then went into her new rooms and sat down on the bed.

Through the paper-thin walls she heard the landlady whispering sharply; she couldn't make out the words but the tone sounded angry. She edged closer to listen, and was shocked at what she heard.

"You never told me she was a lady! What if she has rich folks what'll come after us?" came the woman's nasal tone.

"Well how was I to know – she came with the dedicate. Maybe she's an orphan?" said another voice, a deep, rough one that suggested the owner had few teeth remaining.

Sandry realised what they were talking about and nearly gasped – they were plotting to rob, maybe kill her! She had to leave! She was glad she had not yet unpacked, quickly picking up her bags and climbing out of her window onto the low roof of the shed outside. She then jumped down, stole out the garden and went off to find the nearest watch station. However, on the way she ran into Pasco.

"Hello Lady Sandry, what are you doing out so late tonight?" he enquired in an innocent tone, which made Sandry guess he was not meant to be out so late. "May I carry a bag?" Definitely not meant to be here.

"Pasco, I need your help. Some people are planning to kill me! I'm going to the watch station, will you stay and listen to see if they know I'm gone? Make sure they don't leave the house. Thank you!" And the boy ran off, eager to help his teacher solve yet another crime.

Sandry ran to the watch station and came bursting in on a group of officers playing dice. The tallest, a man with red hair and a scowl on his face, jumped up and said, "What's the matter, miss?"

Breathlessly, Sandry replied "the woman whose house I'm staying in is planning to kill me! I heard her plotting with an accomplice! You've got to help!"

At once all the officers jumped up and ran about, one called for the local mage, and, after requesting Sandry's name – "Lady Sandrilene fa Toren" – called for a better one, and the red-headed chief started taking notes on the woman, her address and her description. They had just assembled a team to go investigate when Pasco ran in.

"Oh no! Are they coming?" asked a horrified Sandry, grabbing Pasco's arm. He shook it free with an odd smirk.

"Not exactly – Lady, I think you might have made a mistake." He tried to look serious, but he couldn't keep a grin from playing around his mouth, which Sandry thought was very cruel considering her desperate situation.

"What on earth, Pasco? Why aren't you still watching them?" The tall officer, she noticed, had put down his pencil and was looking intently at Pasco, who swallowed and continued explaining.

"Well, Lady, I went to listen and sat outside the door, where they couldn't see me, and at first all I heard was them talking about the meal tonight. I figured it was a bit odd, but maybe they were coming on to the planned attack. Then the woman said 'I still think we'll get in trouble', so I listened really close, and the man said 'She won't be able to tell, I'm sure.' That didn't really make sense, so I peered around the window, and the woman was holding a bit of old meat, which, by the way, stank a lot! Then the woman said, 'But if she gets ill and blames us, what if her rich family come after us?'"

Pasco paused his story because the officers began to laugh, while Sandry flushed a deep red. After a moment she gathered herself, thanked the officers for their time, and stormed out of the watch post with Pasco running after her, howling with laughter. Ten paces later, she turned round, eyes sparkling with humiliation, and said brusquely, "There's no need to laugh, it was an honest mistake."

Pasco said nothing, but giggled helplessly. After another ten paces, Sandry turned round again and said, a bit less harshly, "I'm glad I'm not staying in that place anyway, if they serve old meat for dinner!"

Again Pasco did not reply, and ten paces later, a much more mollified Sandry joined in the laughter, saying, "Imagine if I'd ordered their arrest, because they wanted to give me some old meat!" and the two of them stopped on the street and laughed until their sides ached.

After a while, Sandry stopped, wiped the tears from her eyes and said, "Well now what do I do? I have nowhere to stay, and it's dark already!"

Pasco frowned. "You could stay at our house, but we have family over for my sister's wedding and the only space left is in my uncle and aunt's bedroom."

"I think I'd rather sleep on the street!" giggled Sandry, and they both carried on walking down the street. However, five minutes later they bumped into a large man wearing a turban and many jewels.

"Lady Sandrilene, and your young student!" he cried joyously.

"Oh, um, hello Master Rokat!" replied Sandry awkwardly, as Pasco bowed.

"Where are the two of you off to on such an unforgiving night?" the merchant asked. Sandry briefly explained her plight, which Pasco nodded at appropriate moments.'

"And so," she finished, "I'm not really sure where I'll be sleeping tonight."

"Don't worry, I know!" beamed Master Rokat, "my brother in law has recently moved here with his family, they have plenty of space to spare."

"Oh no, really, it's not necessary – I don't want to put them to any trouble, I mean"- "Nonsense! Nothing is too much trouble for the lady who saved our family's fortune – and my neck!" he insisted, and before Sandry could resist, she was swept along with the merchant and his entourage, leaving a confused Pasco hoping his teacher would be alright.


	3. Chapter 3: Suitcases

Sandry's Tale

**(A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I appreciate all feedback. Sorry this chapter took forever, I was marvelling in my new-found freedom and was distracted, but hopefully you'll enjoy it. Happy Summer!!!)**

Chapter 3: Suitcases

_Dark. It was so very dark. She reached out to grab Daja's hand, but instead found a root poking in from the earth ceiling. Recoiling in horror, she reached instead for Briar, but where she thought his foot was, she found a jagged rock. She heard Tris sigh and turned round, only to find it was the last of her air escaping with a hissing noise. She panicked, screamed, and opened her eyes-_

-and found herself in a strange room, without her precious nightlight but with candlelight coming in through the window. Where am I? Sandry wondered, and peered through the sheer curtains to the moonlit garden outside. A walled garden with desert plants, cacti and other strange, spiky ones, set in stones and sand to form a gentle wave around the courtyard they were planted in. Sandry remembered walking through that courtyard, with people fussing round her, when all she wanted to do was go to sleep... Of course, she was at the Rokat family house, Master Rokat's brother who had recently moved to Summersea and was letting her stay while Winding Circle was rebuilt. Now she remembered arriving late, being ushered to this guest bedroom and being told introductions would be properly made in the morning.

Dawn was coming slowly to the walled garden, so Sandry went out to sit in it, wrapping herself in a shawl although the night was very warm. The sun was just coming up to greet her face when a servant woman, a shawl over her hair, bent double and wrinkled so her eyes were two tiny jets in her brown face, came up to her, tutting.

"Miss should not be here; the Master has a study overlooking this garden, and imagine if he saw Miss here. Miss must come inside to the ladies and wait to be called." She then scuttled off again, turned at the edge of the garden when she realised Sandry was not behind her, and tutted again. Sandry rose from the bench and followed her inside, saying,

"I'm ever so sorry to have been there, I didn't realise it was Master Rokat's private garden – I thought it was just a family garden."

"It is, Miss, but you must not go in it unaccompanied, and in your bedclothes as well! The indecency!" Replied the little old woman, turning sharply into a kitchen filled with dried spices and herbs.

"Am I not allowed in that garden unaccompanied?" asked Sandry absentmindedly, as she paused to examine the embroideries on the wall hangings – she recognised signs for health, and protection against fire and poison.

"Of course not, Miss; you're not allowed anywhere but these rooms unaccompanied! Now pass me that tea!" the woman ordered, and Sandry gave her a packet of dried red leaves, thinking, I've heard of customs keeping women in certain quarters from the eastern lands, but I thought here in Emelan they would have relinquished such harsh rules!

"That rule may apply to the family, but surely I am allowed where I please, as a guest of the house?" She replied in her haughtiest manner – she was not going to be trodden down like a doormat!

"You are one of us now, Miss, and the rules are for every female. Now go back to your room and I shall bring you some tea and fruit in bed, as I am supposed to." The woman, obviously a stickler for tradition, turned her back on Sandry and refused her offers of help and protestations that she was already out of bed, saying, "You may not be in your bed now, but you must be in it when I bring you your tea."

So Sandry went back to her room, got into bed, and waited meekly for her tea and fruit.

After breakfast and her morning ablutions, she went back to the kitchen to find someone to talk to. Outside the door she paused, hearing hushed whispers she suspected were about her.

"She was in the garden, in her bedclothes, no escort – how does she dare be so bold!" said a low, clear voice.

Another, younger one, replied, "She may not be used to our traditions, but she might at least respect them, and learn from us the correct way to behave!"

"She may be an ignorant foreigner" – here Sandry had to put her hand against her mouth to stop a giggle of disbelief escaping – "but she has amazing spirit. A very determined young woman," came the voice of the servant woman.

"Determined maybe, but in this house she will obey the rules." The low voice sounded affronted, and Sandry decided to come in, ignoring what she had heard; she was used to noble people who thought they could control everyone, and they would just have to deal with her.

"Good morning," she murmured, and swept her eyes across the kitchen. The servant woman was standing over a board of chopped herbs, and sitting on a stool by her side was a proud-looking woman, holding a cup of tea. Sandry looked for the third, younger, voice, and found a girl about the same age as her with fierce brown eyes staring out from underneath her headscarf. The woman drew herself up and said formally,

"Welcome to the Rokat house, Lady fa Toren. I am Aila Rokat, the lady of the house, and this is my daughter Jarmin. We are honoured to have you here." She rose from the counter, curtseyed before Sandry, and motioned to her daughter who followed her example, all the while keeping her eyes fixed on Sandry.

"Thank you, Lady Rokat. It is so kind of you to accommodate me. I hope I will not extend your courtesy too long. And it is nice to meet you, Jarmin." As she formally thanked her hostess, effortlessly curtseying back, she realised why the girl was staring at her.

"Is it the custom to wear a headscarf in your family? I feel out of place without one." She asked, noting that the girl's eyebrows lifted in astonishment – or appreciation.

"All women must wear a headscarf to protect them from the eyes of men. We find it strange that you are so willing to be taken advantage of. But we are happy to provide you with a scarf for your stay here." Said Aila, still extremely formally, and motioned to the servant woman to fetch one. After an awkward pause, Sandry said

"Is there anything I can do to help? I don't want to be a burden. Perhaps I can help in the kitchen, or with the laundry – I do sewing magic."

Both women gasped at this, but the girl looked oddly happy. "You have magic?" she asked, speaking for the first time in Sandry's presence in a quiet voice. Her eyes were still locked on Sandry's, but there was a different expression in them; pleading, perhaps. Her mother glared at her and her gaze fell, as she calmly intoned, "No woman can have magic as it is reserved for the powerful men, so that they might use it best." She then got up and walked quickly from the room.

"You must forgive my daughter, she thought she was gifted when younger, but the family tester persuaded her that she was mistaken." Said Aila smoothly, but Sandry was still staring in disbelief.

"Women cannot have magic? What do you mean? And why was Jarmin persuaded?" she exclaimed, thinking of everything she could do with her magic, and imagining what it would feel like if she were not allowed to use it. She shuddered, feeling terrible for Jarmin, and was so absorbed that she nearly missed Aila's next comment.

"You must not work here, you are our guest. This morning I will show you around our quarters, and in the afternoon I believe you have been granted an interview with my husband – he will explain the details of our household to you."

Sandy nodded, still trapped with the idea of not being able to use magic, and was unusually quiet as she followed Aila round the tour of the part of the house that belonged to the women. Aila explained that because the house belonged to Master Rokat, women could only go where he permitted them to – "And he has graciously given us the whole of this wing!" – and could only be in the company of men with a suitable, married, escort. The children lived with the women until the age of 12, when boys went to live with the men, and husbands were found for the girls. At that time, there were four children in the women's quarters; a boy aged 10, twin girls aged 7, and a two-year-old baby boy, as well as the 16-year old Jarmin and two older sons who were out doing business deals for their father for a few weeks. Sandry briefly met them all before being swept off and shown the women's parlour, where they entertained female friends in the afternoons.

The Rokats were very wealthy, and because Sandry was used to wealth and the pretensions that come with it, she did not feel too out of place. However, at lunch, when faced with mounds of food and expected to try – and enjoy – them all, she wished she had Briar there to pass the time quicker, or Daja to laugh about the customs with, or Tris, just to take the attention off herself for a bit!

That afternoon she expected to be summoned to properly meet and talk to Master Rokat, but was told that he had urgent business plans he needed to investigate, and that he trusted his wife would look after her for as long as she needed to stay. Which, it seemed, was going to be rather a long time – the earthquake had damaged the foundations of Winding Circle, and it would take months to rebuild strongly enough to survive another. So Sandry began to settle into this way of life; rising to tea and fruit brought by Jamala, the servant woman; a leisurely morning involving planning meals and watching Jamala cook them; then after lunch she would sit and try to make conversation with Aila's friends, all of whom were very keen to meet this new 'impudent' girl. She found the days extremely boring, and longed to do some magic, but the only embroidery she was permitted to do was after dinner in the parlour, and then she could only make useful items, such as baby clothes or dishcloths. She found Aila difficult as the older woman was very strict and obviously disapproved of Sandry's remaining differences, such as her refusal to get rid of her mage's kit; but the relationship she worked hardest at, and got the least out of, was the one with Jarmin. The girl obviously envied her magic and the fact she was allowed to train and use it (although not in this house), and rebuffed every one of Sandry's advances, whether an invitation to play cards or an offer of help with her chores. Sandry desperately wanted to be friends with her, but try as she might, there was no favourable response – Jarmin seemed to think she was stuck-up, spoiled and dishonourable.

She tried to help Jamala in the kitchens, but was informed she was too high-born to concern herself with trivial matters, and despite Sandry's attempts at friendship – she had a feeling the woman would be a good gossip, and she loved to find things out about other people – the servant insisted on the more formal relationship she had with the Rokats. Sandry felt very alone, and missed her foster-family so much that she was tempted to go rent a house near Lark and the other students, before she remembered that all the houses there had been destroyed, and that Lark had her hands full looking after the novices. So she remained in the Rokat house, friendless.


	4. Chapter 4: Letters

Sandry's Tale

**A/N: Sorry I took about a month to upload, you must have all forgotten you were reading this and are now secretly disappointed you have to carry on... I have no excuses for being lazy, apart from going away a bit, so I will try to be better next time. Enjoy anyway! Oh and thanks for all reviews, feedback etc – I try to take it all into account!**

Chapter 4: Letters

Two weeks had passed since Sandry had moved in with the Rokats, and as she felt more and more excluded by them, she decided to write to her siblings, something she had meant to do since before the earthquake, but had been too busy for. Now, with the endless afternoon teas and lack of stimulating chat, she felt glad to talk to them, even if it was a one-sided conversation. She found their latest letters, the ones she had not yet replied to, reread them, and sat down to compose answers.

_Dear Briar_, she wrote, _I'm glad you and Rosethorn have finally got your own house, even if it is quite small. I hope your plants will grow well. I have terrible news that you may have already heard: Winding Circle, as well as the rest of Summersea, was hit by a huge earthquake. Don't worry, we're not hurt, but the temple was destroyed and we've all had to go live elsewhere. _

Here she bit her lip, glad she did not have to tell her brother face-to-face: _I'm afraid your garden was struck by the falling rocks. We managed to save some of the plants in Rosethorn's workshop, but the ones outside have all been destroyed. I'm so sorry. _She knew this would hurt him as much as the death of a human would. _At least your shakkan, and your favourite plants, were with you. _Not that it's any real consolation, she thought. She proceeded to tell him about her adventures afterwards, knowing he would find her misunderstanding at the previous lodgings hysterical. She felt a pang of loneliness as she pictured Briar doubled over laughing, tugging on her braids saying "You really thought she was going to kill you, Duchess!" Sandry wiped away a tear, and finished her letter with: _I hope you and Rosethorn are well and enjoying life in a new city. Please write back soon, I miss you both (don't tell Rosethorn!) Much love, Sandry._

She then reached over for Tris's latest letter, knowing the redhead would have left lots of questions for her. After telling her the terrible news, she answered some of them: _I'll ask Uncle as soon as he gets back about that glass magic book, and see if he can send it to you. No, I didn't know of the Tharian death customs; they sound as odd as the Rokats' ideas about magic. But maybe we'll both become accustomed to them. I made you a new dress in red, but from the sound of your new cuisine you've probably lost some weight, so I'll take it in for you when you come home. _At this, Sandry paused, wondering what sort of a home her siblings would return to. They were all too old to live at Winding Circle, even when it was rebuilt, and she couldn't see them living in the Citadel like her. Equally, she knew she couldn't live apart from them, especially after such a long separation. Maybe we could buy a house? She wondered, and was about to add the suggestion to her letter to Tris, when she saw two small black heads peeping round her bedroom door. As soon as she turned her head, they vanished, but when she turned back she saw them reappear out of the corner of her eye.

She realised they must be the Rokat children; the 10 and 6 year-olds. She didn't remember their names, having only seen them briefly a few times with their nursemaids, but she wanted to find out – she enjoyed playing with children; she still felt like a child herself sometimes. They seemed shy, so she pretended she hadn't seen them and carried on writing, this time to Daja – the easiest of her siblings to write to because she put only the basic information into her letters and didn't ask for long explanations about Sandry's daily life (Tris) or tease her (Briar). This time, however, she read what she wrote out loud, hoping the sound of foreign cities and adventure would draw the children in.

"I think Namorn sounds like a lovely city, although the weather sounds too cold for me! But your talk of ice sculptures and skating is amazing. Hopefully when Tris and Briar come back from their adventures we can all go somewhere together and meet new people and try new things!" Out of the corner of her eye she saw the heads had reappeared, and there was even a thumb in the little boy's mouth, so she put the letter down, and said, as if to herself,

"What amazing places my friends have gone to. I can just imagine the busy markets in Tharios where Tris is learning to scry the wind. Maybe she'll buy me a beautiful glass vase, all swirled with different colours that looks as if it's alive!"

The boy was now half sitting on the floor, and his sister was leaning on the wall absentmindedly.

"And Briar; he's in Chammur, where the land is so dry that they have strange plants which store water inside them. He told me about one that you can cut open and drink from, and it's as fresh as rainwater!"

Both children were finally inside the room, listening avidly. Sandry turned to them and said excitedly, "Have you ever been to a city like that?"

The little boy shook his head and looked shyly up at her, but the girl said importantly, "Before we came here we were in Yanjing; there Mama had three maids just to dress her!"

"Wow," said Sandry, "Did you like it in Yanjing?"

"Yes," replied the girl, "But I like it better here because we're by the sea."

"And we can sail our boats when Eduardo and Danjel are here!" cried the little boy enthusiastically. He edged closer to Sandry so he was sitting next to her.

"Are Eduardo and Danjel your brothers?" asked Sandry, knowing the two eldest Rokat boys were out on business trips.

The little girl nodded and came to lean on Sandry's shoulder. "Will you tell us more about the places your brother and sisters are in?" she asked.

"Of course," said Sandry, "but first will you tell me your names?"

"I'm Salina," said the girl proudly, "and my brother is Corron. But we all call him Coco."

"Well I'm Sandry. Now, what do you want to hear about?" She drew Coco onto her lap where he sat, gazing up at her, and Salina came to sit cross-legged facing her, as she proceeded to tell them about her siblings and herself; their previous lives and the adventures they had had so far together.

After an hour or so, when Sandry's voice was getting sore, Jarmin came looking for the two children. When she saw them sitting so close to Sandry, enthralled with her stories, she was furious. She berated her siblings for "hiding away", and reminded that sitting idly and listening to stories – at that she glared at Sandry - was laziness and a sin. She then swept them away to baths and bed, refusing to look at or listen to Sandry's apologies.

Sandry sighed again – every time she felt she was getting close to one member of the family or another, a door was slammed, usually by Jarmin.


End file.
